CHAPTER 22

“A Slap Across The Temple”

August 4th, 2040: Chlothar City Capital, The Plusieurs Kingdom

Inside the throne room, a group of high-ranking nobles, and The Queen herself, stood around a large table that had been placed near the thrones. Atop it, a map of their kingdom. Many villages, and cities to the north as well as a few isolated areas to the south, miniature flagpoles with the American flag were placed.

“Your Majesty, I highly suggest that we negotiate with the Americans while we still have some strength left. Should they sweep aside the rest of our armies, we will be left with no room to negotiate a treaty.” One noble recommended, with another quickly countering his proposal.

“What army? We have had no time to call upon our soldiers! Not to mention anywhere we place a rallying flag, the Americans quickly find out and wipe the settlement from the map!” The noble retorted.

“All the more reason to suspect a spy within our ranks…” Marquis Gilles du Bois crossed his arms in frustration at the situation. “I have lost well over half of my soldiers and levys, I have nothing left to spare for the war without risking the stability of my region.” Mumbles of agreement from some of the other nobles echoed around the hall before Queen Stéphane de Châtillon raised her right hand, immediately silencing everyone.

“Duke Maurice de Craon, how is the campaign in the north?” Her cold stare moved to the Duke who scanned the map.

“From the very few men who survive encounters with the Americans, it seems The United States was already prepared for war with another nation before their…supposed transfer. It also seems that they have an entirely foreign doctrine when it comes to waging war and battle tactics”. Duke Maurice de Craon made multiple lines across the northern regions using some string and pins. “They look at your kingdom like a brick road, your royal majesty. They attack one or a small section of bricks, gain complete control, then move on to the next. I have, however, been able to predict when they will launch an offensive rather reliably. First, they use their air creatures, along with some unseen force that can cause an explosion to soften their target. In this example let's say a city. The Americans will target the walls, towers, armories, food storage, the keep itself and anything else that looks to be used by our military. After a period ranging from one to twelve days, they then launch an assault on the city, the first to push through is always their steel beasts, quickly followed by foot soldiers. By this point in the siege, our forces have sustained heavy losses from the previous attacks, coupled with this, the city falls within the day.” Moving his right hand over the map, he picked up an American flag that was placed on a city. “Rudolf… even with five thousand soldiers, it only took the Americans twelve days to conquer the city. Your Royal Majesty, I do not take pride in saying this, however it must be heard. We can not win against The United States. If the war continues like this, we will fall before winter. I advise that we begin negotiating for a peace treaty while we still have land.” Turning to The Queen, Duke Maurice de Craon could tell that by her cold look, his time on this land was running short.

“You swore to me that you would push them out of my realm.”

“I stand by Duke Maurice de Craon!” An old male voice echoed from across the hall, with everyone looking at the main entrance their expressions morphed into a mix of shock and horror. Being pushed in a rickety wooden wheelchair and covered in bandages, the heavily wounded man motioned for the maid behind him to push him towards the nobles.

“Duke André de Foix! What happened to you!” One noble questioned, with many others staring in silence, or covering their open mouths, trying to hide their expressions at the sight of a Duke being this injured.

“The failure to push out the Americans from our lands is what happened. I am only still alive because of the merciful actions taken by the Americans at the battle of Forgon. After a decisive attack from some unseen weapon, I was knocked off my horse and broke my foot. With what little men I had left standing, and many more unable to fight because of their injuries. The American steel beasts pushed out from the town to what I first presumed was to ‘clean up’ those who were left standing. Instead, I received this.” Digging into his robe's pocket, he pulled out a small purple gem that immediately began to shine.

“Attention enemy combatants! This battle is over! Drop your weapons and surrender! Under the rules of war, you will be treated humanely and with respect! If you are injured, call out and we will give you aid!”

“Needless to say, I told my men to surrender and we were captured by the Americans.” Being pushed to the table, Duke André de Foix examined the map before lifting his less wounded left arm and pointed to the American fortress. “I was told that due to the severity of my and some of my soldiers' injuries, I would be moved to their fortress. A place they call Ramstein Airbase. Before reaching anywhere close to the fortress however, I was blindfolded and was told I would be placed in a secured room for the safety of myself and the Americans stationed there.” Placing his left arm back onto the wheelchair armrest, Duke André de Foix gazed at his bandages. “The Americans have a far better understanding of medicine than I thought any scholar could understand, telling me all about the possible outcomes of my injuries--mainly my broken foot, with the American doctors saying I should not try to walk, nor move it much for at least eight to ten weeks. After what I believe to be eight days or so, someone by the title of Brigadier General Perkins said to me that I was going to be released as part of a prisoner exchange deal, orchestrated by a local Baron that I didn’t catch the name of.”

“And just how many Americans were freed because of this...Baron?” Queen Stéphane de Châtillon questioned.

“I believe the trade was a one to three deal. One of ours for three Americans. They also asked me to relay two messages, one to you, Duke Maurice de Craon, and one to you, Your Royal Majesty. Duke Maurice de Craon’s message is a simple one. They know that you hold the majority of the imprisoned Americans and have asked that you treat them with the same respect and dignity that they have shown towards our captured comrades. For Your Royal Majesty, I bring a letter from their Commander in Chief, the man who currently rules over The United States.” Hearing those last words, all of the nobles waited with bated breath as Duke André de Foix waited for his helper maid to pass him the letter.

To Queen Stéphane de Châtillon, Queen and ruler of The Plusieurs Kingdom.

This needless war has dragged on for long enough. Because of reasons outside our control, Ramstein Airbase has found itself inside your realm without your consent. While I cannot simply abandon a major overseas airbase, I offer a compromise. In exchange for peace with The Plusieurs Kingdom, I request the safe passage of all American prisoners of war, and the safe passage of all soldiers and noble men and women from The Plusieurs Kingdom. The United States of America will pay seventy-thousand gold coins, both as a proposal to purchase the land that Ramstein sits on, and to cover any damage caused by our military campaign. Should we come to a peaceful conclusion to this needless war, we will return all captured land other than the region Ramstein sits on, to The Plusieurs Kingdom. Removing both of our titles as rulers for a moment, we are one of the same, pure humans. We both come from civilized nations that were built upon savage and barbaric tribes, there is no reason for us to return to such times. Let us both agree to hold a peace negotiation on neutral ground, and let us stop any more blood from being spilled over this minor conflict.

Sincerely, John Dresden, The 49th President of The United States of America.

The long silence that followed made even Duke Maurice de Craon uneasy as they waited for their Queen's reply. Instead, she turned around, and using one of the many smaller side doors to the throne room, she walked out. In response to the Queen's abrupt absence, Marquis Gilles du Bois, stirs up a conversation in silence. Despite not a word being spoken, each noble around the room understood what needed to be done, even if it cost their lives.

In Another Part Of The Palace

Inside her personal bedroom. Princess Christina, along with Thyra and Luna were reading a war report that had been, gifted, by Agent Renard. Reading it, then re-reading it again as their minds failed to process the message.

“For such an… Effective war doctrine to cause this much destruction.” Luna’s eyes went over the casualty rate for engaging the Americans again and again. Nearly half of the engaging force always died, however outliers with sieges and defensive positions skyrocketed that to the high eighties.

“To think back to that day, when the three American flying beasts attacked this city causing so much damage in such a short moment, all the while they were razing other settlements to the ground with multiple flying beasts. And it was only a one-time attack! Imagine what power a whole formation of these monsters could hold.” Allowing the report to float to the floor, Christina buried her face in her hands. In only a few months, her beloved kingdom had been crushed underneath the American steel-toed boot.

“Please, Your Majesty. There is still hope, Sir Renard has made it clear that President Dresden supports you, both with rebuilding, and keeping any rebellions from rising while we situate ourselves.” Thrya placed a sympathetic hand on Christina, all the while Luna scoffed.

“Oh please, once this war is over, we will be seen as nothing but a pawn to the Americans. Used as a tool to stabilize their own empire! Used as a staging ground for future wars. Once we break and have nothing left to give, they will leave us to die! History always tells us what happens to those who become puppets for superior powers!” She sneered at the prospect. “At least The Autoriario Empire had the guts to tell the known world.” She remarked to herself.

Before either Christina or Thyra could speak, the door to the room was thrown open with a bang as it collided with the wall. Standing in the doorframe, was Queen Stéphane de Châtillon, and at her side, was a rapier.

“I knew you three were up to something!” Drawing the sword, the Queen lunged at Christina. Having no time to react she instinctively closed her eyes. But a metallic pinging sound made her snap back to reality as she saw Luna had drawn her sword, and quickly swiped the Queen's blade upwards, causing the rapier to embed itself into the bed's wooden frame. With One smooth motion with her free left arm, Luna grabbed the Queen by the right shoulder and pushed back hard. With the fight now moving into the hallway Thyra moved herself in front of Christina and bared her razor-sharp wolf claws.

“You dare sell me out to these filthy outsiders! I will have you all tried for your crimes!” Raising her right hand, Queen Stéphane de Châtillon summoned a small dark purple rune.

“Silentium!” A male voice boomed from down the hall, at the same time, the Queen's rune shattered. With both Luna and the Queen looking down to see who cast the counterspell. Both widen their eyes in disbelief.

“I am sorry, your Majesty. However this can no longer go on.” Duke Maurice de Craon low voice said, and to his left, Marquis Gilles du Bois stepped forward.

“At the behest of many in the nobility and those left in the army. We have all come to the agreement that a truce with the Americans is the best possible outcome for our respective houses. Now, with you attempting to become a kinslayer. We have no other choice but to…release you from your royal duties.” With a snarky smile slowly creeping across his face, the air was quickly filled with the sound of marching armor, the crystal clear sound of the royal guards.

“You think I am scared of any of you? I am the ruler of this kingdom, my word is absolute!” With her grasp of reality slipping away, it was recalled back in with a hardy chuckle from the opposite side of the hallway. There, leaning up against the stone brick wall, dressed in his black suit, Renard lifted his head to fix his gaze at the manic queen.

“While you may not be scared of them. You should very well be afraid of me.” Reaching into his suit jacket’s pocket, he pulled out his ink pen and with one clean motion, threw it at the queen. With her involuntary reaction to the sudden foreign object being thrown at her, Renard quickly closed the gap between them. Once within arms reach, Renard quickly delivered a punch to the queen's left temple, knocking her out cold. Picking up his ink pen he let out a light sigh. “Well, that was…underwhelming. Princess Christina.” Hearing her name called, she quickly broke from her frozen state and shot up from the bed. “As I am authorized to act on behalf of President Dresden. I purpose that Queen Stéphane de Châtillon is to be stripped of her title as Queen and ruler of The Plusieurs Kingdom as she is no longer fit to rule with a sound mind. In her place, her only daughter, Princess Christina de Châtillon should take the throne as the rightful heir to the throne and as ruler. Does anyone object to this proposal?” Being met with either smirks from the nobles and stunned silence from the four women. Renard clapped his hands. “Then it is settled! I shall notify my counterparts about this situation and the peace negotiations can begin earnestly!”